


pure truth

by jessamoo



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamoo/pseuds/jessamoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt "Bash and Kenna sleep together after Mary chooses Francis and she falls pregnant."</p>
            </blockquote>





	pure truth

She finds him alone on a balcony, in the dark.

She hadn’t been looking for him, though she had heard the news, but when she sees him there, huddled and defeated in the moonlight, she feels her heart constrict in sympathy.

When she moves toward shim he spins angrily – but when he sees it’s her he softens a little, turning back again.

Kenna stands softly next to him. He isn’t crying or anything, but she knows he’s emotional. She can see it on his drawn face.

She can’t think of what to say to him – she doesn’t know what he must feel to have been passed over again by the girl he most likely loved.

“I’m sorry about Mary.” She says quietly.

Bash closes his eyes when she says her name like he can’t bare the sound of it.

He shakes his head. “I’m not sorry for that so much as…” 

Kenna frowns at him. She had been sure he liked Mary, and to have her choose Francis over him must hurt, however expected it may have been.

“As what?” she asks kindly.

“As I am now to simply go back to my life as a bastard. All my life people have whispered it about me and thought me lesser for it. I never wanted the throne for myself. Or Mary – if she didn’t choose me. But I have to admit it was nice to feel a part of something…now I have to go back to being nothing.” 

“Bash! You are not nothing!” Kenna cries almost angrily.

He smiles at her outrage on his behalf but doesn’t say anything.

She reaches out and turns his face toward hers.

“It doesn’t matter that she chose Francis and it doesn’t matter that you’re a bastard. That doesn’t make you nothing…” she shakes her head with a small smile. “To be honest your probably the best man I know.”

She only understands the truth of her words as she speaks them. Out of all the men at court who leered at her or used her, even henry, Bash was the only one that really bothered to talk to her like a person.

His eyebrows tighten together a little and she sees the question burning in his eyes. She suddenly feels that her words aren’t enough. She wants to comfort him but she doesn’t know how.

So hesitantly she stands on her tip toes and presses her lips gently to his cheek.

Bash turns into the contact, and as Kenna pulls away her takes her face in his hands and pulls her back quickly, pressing their lips together.

Kenna, after a brief pause of surprise, kisses him back. It’s not gentle, but it is comforting.

 

When she pulls away and peers up at him, they both still seem a little surprised at the intensity floating between them.

He looks down at her and frowns. “Why are you sad?” he whispers softly.

She blinks up at him, not realising anyone could see so quickly the feelings she so often kept hidden.

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about that.” she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing closer to him and he pulls her in. “I just think…”

“Think neither of us deserve to be alone.” He finishes for her.

Kenna nods breathlessly and crashes her lips against his again.

That night felt like a million years ago now.

They had tumbled into bed together in a torrent of emotion. They had exercised all their hurt from their bodies, by finding solace in the others. They had purged themselves with each other’s skin, her lips had assured him silently that at least for that night, he was wanted. And as for her, she had awoken in his arms and that had been enough. After the way Henry had chased her from his chambers when he had finished with her, Bash’s comforting arm around her was all she needed.

But he had returned to his sadness, though it might not have been so hurtful as before. He still glanced away from Mary and Francis with a flash of hurt in his eyes.

But she had not returned to Henry’s bed. He had found a new plaything. And as much as she worried for her status now, she was glad of it. He had turned sinister and cruel to her and she saw the madness clawing inside of him. She didn’t want to be there when it was unleashed. He had at leasr promised her a husband with a title - though she hadn’t seen any sign of his actively searching for one.

But she worried for it, because as it turned out, she wouldn’t have a lot of time to find one.

When she had been with Bash they hadn’t thought about consequences. And now those consequences had risen up to damn her.

If it had been henry’s child she might have been taken care of at least.

But as Kenna watched her stomach slowly grow, felt her body ache, she knew that she was pregnant with Bash’s child. And she knew it would be her undoing.

 

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him. She couldn’t tell anyone. She knew she could not pretend the child was Henry’s, she didn’t want to risk being found out and punished. She couldn’t bare the pitying looks from her ladies, or the judgement.

She had been skilled at ignoring her problems, but this was something she couldn’t ignore.

She could ignore Bash though, which she began to do vehemently.

He would start to make his way over to across the room and she would slip out before he got there or busy herself talking to someone else.

It was easier that way. She was going to have this child with another than as its father. Better to distance herself from Bash now, from that guilt, than to have anything between them that could sway her from her plan.

He would watch her as she would talk to suitors and other men, a frown clouding his face. She didn’t think he was in love with her or anything like that, but she did suppose that her coldness toward him still must sting.

When her hand would trail lightly over her stomach as she lay in bed, she would sometimes imagine his hand over hers. But then she would force the thought from her mind.

She didn’t know what scared her most. Dealing with this pregnancy alone, finding a husband and convincing him the dates lined up, or her desperate dream that Bash be happy to be a father.

She had to keep telling herself that the best thing for the child would be to have a father with a title it could possibly inherit. She had always sought after a profitable match – now she just had another incentive.

 

Henry found her her husband. But it wasn’t what she imagined.

In fact it was exactly what she had been actively working against for more than a month.

She stood sobbing opposite bash, who had an equally pained expression on his face. Not just because he didn’t really want to marry her, but because he knew this wasn’t what she wanted and he felt painfully sorry for her.

She was beautiful and clever, she had been so close to finding a good match she just knew it. And now she was being whored out to someone who, whilst a good man, she didn’t see taking care of her. He might be a faithful, accepting husband. But he didn’t have a title. He had been right that night on the balcony when he said people looked down on him. And she knew the pain of that - all she had wanted was to raise herself above all that. Not cast her lot in beside it.

 

She is cold and aloof. He tries his hardest to talk to her but she can barely speak to him. She feels all used up.

The only thing she thinks about is the life inside of her, anchoring her to the world. Her one constant companion. At first she had been terrified – she still was really. But she found a strange comfort in knowing she wasn’t ever alone.

Bash didn’t force her to do anything – he learnt quickly that she wasn’t going to let him touch her very much either. It wasn’t very wifely and people might talk, but she didn’t feel ready to throw herself back into his arms again.

It would be a rewind. A return to the night on the balcony when this trouble had started. And whilst a part of her cared about Bash, she didn’t want that. That night had been about comfort. Anything outside of that would be forced and awkward – it would be a lie after experiencing basic and pure truth together.

 

Eventually though, the distance grew to be too much for Bash. He threw his hands up wearily as she spent another morning sat at her dressing table pretending he wasn’t there.

“I don’t want to be miserable for the rest of my life.” He cries suddenly.

She shrugs none committedly. “Life isn’t fair, didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

He sighs with bone deep weariness and moves up to stand behind her. She finally glances at him in the mirror.

“Please Kenna, let’s not fight again. I don’t have the strength or the will for it.” 

Kenna looks down a little guiltily, pretending to be focused on brushing her hair.

“I’ve been thinking. Perhaps maybe this would be easier…if we just let it be. If we got on with our lives and had a proper marriage instead of focusing on how it was forced on us…I’m not the worst person to be married to am I?” he smiles a little self-deprecatingly.

Kenna glares at him reproachfully then softens. “By a proper marriage I assume you’re talking about…consummation?” she juts her chin out as she speaks sharply.

Bash doesn’t say anything, which is answer enough. He grips the back of her chair tightly.

Kenna rolls her eyes. “We’ve been together before.”

“Not as husband and wife.”

“Why does it even matter?” she snaps, flinging her brush down.

Bash doesn’t get annoyed with her, he just lets her fume which is somehow more annoying to her. “It matters because otherwise we might be alone all our lives, even if we’re married. And neither of us deserve to be alone, remember?” 

She does. His words on the balcony float through her mind. That night she had believed him. Now she wasn’t sure. But her hand falls to her stomach. She wasn’t alone – but he was. He didn’t have anything else outside of this now. And suddenly she feels tears pricking her eyes.

She had told him he was nothing, then treated him like he was. She had been so focused on what he couldn’t give her that she hadn’t appreciated what he did offer. The way out of a lie that would have haunted her marriage to another. She wouldn’t have to carry the burden of knowing she had convinced someone they were a father. And she wouldn’t have to worry about having a cruel husband, for she knew Bash could never be like that.

He moves to crouch beside her when he realises she’s crying, lifting her head softly with his fingers.

“Why are you sad?” he asks seriously.

“Because I suppose a part of me wants to stay here with you. Your right, it would be easier for us to be kinder to one another.” She places a hand on his cheek softly.

Bash realises she is trying to be kind. He knows she wasn’t angry with him, but desperately sad and used. He wants her to let him take that away for her. Now he sees the sadness on her face, something primal in him urges him to remove it and to try make her happy.

He is confused when Kenna takes his hand and places it on her stomach.

His fingers move over her slightly and he realises, slowly, holding his breath. He looks at her with questions in his eyes that he already knows the answer to. He remembers how her body felt underneath his and knows she is different now.

“Are you…” he whispers, shaking his head. Her behaviour all began to make sense to him.

She nods with tears on her cheeks. She sighs shakily when she sees a small smile on Bash’s face.

“Is it…it is…mine?” he asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to anger her but he has to know.

She nods again and to her surprise, she finds herself smiling.

And so despite their hurt, they both realised they had been thrown together. They were the only two people they could rely on. There was a comforting certainty to it now. And as Bash laid his forehead against his wife’s stomach, he knew for the first time that neither of them would be alone again.


End file.
